


Unbroken

by starkercrossedlovers



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkercrossedlovers/pseuds/starkercrossedlovers
Summary: Tony thinks no one notices how badly he's suffering. Peter does, always has, and does everything he can to help.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

It’s when they’re in a briefing with the UN that Peter realizes it—Tony isn’t even paying attention. It’s not like it’s the first time, but he’s not playing on his phone and rolling his eyes at whatever Ross is saying, he’s just…staring…blank eyed and vacant, out the window where rain rolls down the panes.

He contributes less to plans when they’re called in, lets Steve take the lead, and doesn’t even argue when he’s asked to stay behind on a few missions.

It’s weird.

Tony still smiles and jokes and makes sure everyone’s tech is good, spends long hours in his lab and drives fancy cars…but he’s not the same. He’s got dark circles under his eyes and lines around his mouth, and more than once Peter has noticed his hand tremble when he reaches for a tool in the shop.

Whatever it is, it’s not good.

When Peter mentions it to Sam, casually as he can, the older man shrugs and says “We’re all different now kid. He seems fine to me.”

Which…

Yea, things are different post snap, most of the universe was restored, sacrifices were made, and they all live with the consequences of that.

But something, something isn’t _right_.

Peter can’t tell if it’s his enhanced senses telling him that somethings wrong, or if he just notices Tony more than anyone else— _not like **that** _he tries assure himself—but something isn’t right.

He can’t sleep one night, too keyed up after a mission gone wrong—his ribs are still sore after being blasted through a wall and his head is light and dizzy, but, in the grand scheme of things he’s ok—so he wanders through the compound, the silence almost eerie.

His feet carry him down to the lab without even thinking about it and when he pushes the door open he’s momentarily still, stunned by what’s before him.

Tony has some kind of contraption on his head, sensors all over his skin, and a grimace on his face like he’s in pain. There’s a sheen of sweat on his skin and he looks pale and then he’s groaning and oh _god_ , he really _is_ in pain!

Peter’s across the room and yanking electrodes off, gasping Tony’s name, desperate to relieve whatever agony he’s in, but to his shock, Tony curses him and shoves him back.

“W-what are you _doing_?” Peter whispers, hands flexing by his sides, watching as Tony arches, face lined with pain.

“T-Trying to fix it…gotta fix it…”

“Fix what?!”

“…..me”

Peter’s heart sinks, “What does that mean? Why is this hurting you?!” he demands, stepping close to grab Tony’s wrist. The older man flinches and yanks it away, a hitched noise of pain slipping from between gnawed on lips.

“Stop…kid…go”

Peter’s brow furrowed, “What? No! Tell me what’s wrong!”

Something happens and Tony screams, again and again, eyes wide and unseeing as he begs and sobs and cries out Peter’s name. The sound of his broken voice pleading for help rips into Peter’s gut and he can’t, he _can’t_ watch this.

Fingers fumbling, he yanks the electrodes off Tony’s skin, tosses aside the weird looking helmet and lifts him out of the dentist style chair he’s in. He slings Tony’s arm around his shoulders and grips his waist, carries him over to the couch and sets him down, heart pounding frantically.

His senses scream that something is wrong and he’s not sure if it’s because Tony’s in trouble or if Peter is in imminent danger…shit, it’s too nonspecific for him to even guess.

He grabs a bottle of juice from the fridge and crouches by Tony to help him drink. The older man’s gaze is still vacant and it makes Peter shiver; he doesn’t like how _dead_ he looks. It’s too much like…Titan.

Slowly, Tony finishes the juice and life returns to his gaze. His dark eyes slide up to Peter’s face and then darken with shame. When they well with tears and he lurches up off the couch and away from Peter, it feels like his heart is cracking.

“Tony! Wait!”

“Just…just go, kid.”

“No! And stop calling me kid!”

Peter cuts him off, stands his ground in front of Tony and glares up at him. “What’s wrong? I’ve seen how you don’t sleep, how you stare at nothing, you’re tired and run down and your hands shake! So tell me!”

He’s breathing hard and Tony just stares down at him, confused.

“You…noticed?”

_Huh?_

Peter’s brow furrows, “What?”

“You noticed…all of that…about me.”

“Yea, of course I did. You’re my friend, Tony, of course I’d notice you aren’t ok.”

“No one else did.”

“Well, they don’t know you like I do.”

There’s a long moment of silence in which he just stares at Tony and the older man wavers, hands trembling, and then breaks. He sobs and caves inward and Peter lurches forward, wraps his arms around Tony and holds him as tightly as he can without hurting him.

“I keep seeing you die,” Tony gasps between sobs, “ashes…gone,” he whispers, and oh god, it hurts. Peter closes his eyes and blinks back his own tears.

How had no one noticed Tony was suffering?

Why was he the only one who had seen it?

“I…I should have s-stopped it, saved you,” Tony rasps, breath hitching as he breathes unevenly.

“Shh,” Peter hushes, hands moving in slow circles over his back. “Just breathe,” he whispers, “like this, with me.” He takes slow, even breaths and eventually Tony copies him, thundering heart slowing and soon he’s not taking great heaving gasps of air, though he’s still a little unsteady.

Peter pulls back slowly and wipes the tears from Tony’s face. “There’s nothing you could have done. What happened had to happen, Strange told you that.” Tony makes a soft broken noise and shakes his head but Peter keeps going, “You brought me back. I’m alive because of _you_ , Tony.”

Tony’s breath hitches at that and his eyes fill again but he nods, slowly.

“What were you trying to do with this?” Peter asks, gesturing to the machinery Tony had been hooked up to.

Tony winces and shakes his head, “It’s for PTSD, to try and remove the pain and negative associations with traumatic events. It’s uh, a work in progress,” he murmurs, glancing back down to meet Peter’s gaze.

“Why don’t I help?” Peter offers, squeezing gently where his hands rest on Tony’s shoulders. He inhales unsteadily when Tony’s hands tighten in response where they’ve fallen to his hips, smiling when the older man nods unsteadily in agreement.

He’s painfully aware of the fact they’re just standing here, still, hands on each other like—

What it would look like if someone walked in—

Tony stares down at him, eyes searching and warm and he shakes his head, disbelief on his face as he smiles faintly.

“Can’t believe you knew something was up.”

Peter shivers a little at the intensity of his gaze, “I’ll always know. Even if no one else notices, I do. I will.”

His heart beats too fast as Tony just keeps staring at him and there’s this look in his eye, almost like hope and—

He’s leaning up to press his lips against Tony’s, white noise rushing in his ears, Tony motionless agaisnt him for such a long moment he starts to break away—

And then hands tug on his hips and Tony’s parting his lips and slotting his head and it’s deeper than before, hungrier. They cling together until Tony breaks away, breathing unsteadily against his lips, eyes hooded.

They stare at each other for a moment before Peter smiles softly and kisses him again, slower this time, sighing happily when Tony pulls him closer. He can feel the older man shivering and when he pulls away again, there’s fear in his eyes as his hands tighten on Peter’s hips.

“This is…real?”

Tony looks confused, scared, and Peter realizes he thinks this is just another PTSD hallucination, or something like it. Nodding, he leans in and kisses him firmly.

“It’s real.”

Tony’s eyes squeeze shut as Peter strokes a hand over his cheek, fingers gentle as they slide through his dark curls.

“I’m real Tony. I’m here. I see you. I notice you.”

Tony nods slowly.

_You’re real_

_You’re here_

_You see me_

_You notice me_

He whispers each promise and then opens his eyes to stare down at Peter.

“Promise?”

Peter smiles.

“I do. I will. Always.”


	2. Chapter 2

His hand shakes as he reaches for a mug and the sound of it shattering is like the moon above Titan exploding around him; overwhelming and agonizing.

Knuckles white where his hands grab the counter to keep him from buckling, he breathes too fast, each gasp like sucking water instead of air.

He’s drowning…dying…

“Mr. Stark! Tony!”

Hands land on his face, turning it, and he can’t see, it’s all dark and painful and oh _god_ , he’s dying…the air is to close, suffocating him.

“C’mon Tony, look at me.”

He can’t. He can’t move, can’t breathe, can only curl in on himself as the world collapses around him.

“C’mon Tony, it’s me, it’s Peter. Just breathe, I know, it hurts, but you have to breathe.”

Something strong wraps around him, holds him still and pressed against a firm, warm entity. Warm wet air brushes the nape of his neck and he shivers, gasping, heart racing and lungs drowning.

“It’s ok, just breathe. Slow and steady Tony, I’m right here.”

The voice—Peter?—guides him, crooning and gentle, the slow steady pull of air and the rhythmic beating of a heart start to fill his ears and replace the frantic rushing of blood in his head.

“There you go, good, good job Tony.”

His breathing stutters and it feels less like he’s dying now. He can hear the coffee maker hissing and rumbling, the faint sound of the tv in the background and in his ear, the soft voice of Peter, gently encouraging.

“You’re doing so good Tony. I’m so proud. I know this is hard, I know it feels like you’re dying, but you’re not, you’re here with me. I’ve got you.”

Tony’s breath hitches and tears burn in his eyes, throat too thick to swallow, and he turns blindly, buries his face in Peter’s neck, gasping as he sobs.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I won’t let you go. I love you Tony, I’m right here.”

God… _god_ what would he do without Peter? He’d be an even bigger wreck than he already is, and he wants to push Peter away, tell him to find someone who isn’t so broken, but **_Christ_** , he _needs_ Peter.

He needs him more than is probably healthy, but the kid won’t let him push him away. Despite the nightmares and the flashbacks and the pain, Peter sticks by him.

They’ve both suffered through the brutality of the universe; death and torture and horrific monsters trying to destroy everything good and beautiful…and they’ve still managed to find this one good, pure thing.

He knows that no matter how bad things get, or how bad they’ve been, Peter won’t leave him. He wouldn’t abandon him to space, and he only left him on Titan because death had stolen him away.

Tony doesn’t understand why Peter stays, why he loves a man as broken as he is, but he’s so goddamn grateful that he does. Every time Peter holds him, kisses him, smiles at him, he’s reminded that he’s not so broken that he can’t be loved.

It hurts, loving Peter.

But it hurt worse, losing him.

So he clings tighter to Peter and reminds himself it’s air he’s breathing, and it’s love, not death filling his lungs.


End file.
